Yellow Crocus (24 page)
Mr. Wainwright spoke out, “It is with great pleasure that we announce the betrothal of our only daughter, Elizabeth, to Mr. Edward Langston Cunnigham.”
The crowd gave polite applause.
Mr. Cunningham then addressed the gathering, “We are delighted to welcome Elizabeth into our family. As a token of our pleasure we present her with this necklace.”
Edward opened the jewelry box, exhibiting it in a slow arc to the crowd who responded with obvious approval. He then turned it toward Lisbeth. A large, deep blue sapphire hung down the center with smaller sapphires marching up the sides of the necklace. It was too large for her taste, but her eyes shone with the delight she knew he and everyone else expected. Edward stared at her with anticipation.
“Thank you so much. It is lovely,” Lisbeth spoke loud enough for all to hear.
Edward continued to stare expectantly. Finally he jerked his head and motioned in a circle with his finger.
“Oh!” Lisbeth said as she twirled around to present her neck to her fiancé.
As Edward stepped close, Lisbeth became extremely aware of the shell at her heart. She resisted the temptation to touch it. Edward reached around and fastened the shining necklace at her throat. She felt a small tug on the string of the shell. He knew it was there. She turned around and the crowd clapped once again. Lisbeth smiled at them and then at Edward. But he did not return her gaze.
As the crowd broke up Edward hissed in her ear, “What are you wearing around your neck?”
“Oh, this?” asked Lisbeth. Feigning indifference, she fingered the string at her neck. Thinking quickly she made up a story. “I always wear it on my birthday. It is an old gift from a dear friend who moved away.”
Edward hissed quietly, “Well, it is not at all suitable for an event such as this. A string around your neck! Honestly, sometimes I do not know how you get by at all.”
“No one can see it,” Lisbeth countered. “It is entirely private.”
“I know it is there,” Edward insisted.
“Yes, Edward. Of course, I do not know what came over me,” Lisbeth acquiesced. “I can be overly sentimental sometimes. I shall not wear it around you again.”
“Thank you. Now let us greet our guests as betrothed.”
First they circulated to the small tables, making polite conversation and accepting the best wishes of the elders and married adults in their community. When someone asked for a closer look at her jewels, Lisbeth made sure to hold the sapphire out against the palm of a hand so that no one would notice the bump of the shell under her gown.
Eventually the newly engaged couple were able to sit with their friends. After showing off the necklace and discussing wedding arrangements, the conversation turned to their honeymoon.
“I would love to go to Paris,” Lisbeth said. “Or perhaps London. Europe sounds beautiful and intriguing. I would go anywhere in Europe, even Rome!”
“I would be afraid to travel so far!” Mary declared.
“Not I,” Lisbeth replied. “I should love such an adventure.”
“New York City will be adventure enough for me,” declared Edward. “I see no need to leave the shores of this country. I certainly have no need to listen to people speak French or Italian.”
“French is a beautiful language,” Matthew interjected.
“It may be beautiful,” Edward replied, “but I have no need of it!”
“Sounds like you will be going to New York on your honeymoon,” Mary announced.
“I suppose,” Lisbeth nodded.
She discreetly rubbed at the fabric over the shell.
A
year of vigorous planning passed quickly. The ceremony would be held at Mt. Vernon Christian Church at 2 p.m. on May 14, 1858. Four hundred guests were expected to be in attendance at both the ceremony and the reception. After much debate, the families decided to follow tradition and hold the reception at the home of the bride.
Lisbeth’s trousseau was nearly finished, though none of it would ever be used. Her handiwork would be stored away since much finer linens were in use at White Pines. But since protocol required a lady to bring a trousseau to her marriage, hers would be complete. She had two more napkins to finish by May.
Lisbeth arrived at White Pines to celebrate her twenty-first birthday with a tea for her friends and family. Emma greeted Lisbeth with an eager embrace.
“Elizabeth, the seamstress has brought my gown for your wedding! Come see. Mary, you come as well.”
The three young women ascended the stairs to Emma’s bedchamber. With a flourish Emma produced a pale green silk gown. The low neckline, trimmed with deep green ribbon dotted by small pearls, would draw special attention.
“It is beautiful, Emma. You shall outshine me on my own wedding day!”
Mary protested, “No, Lisbeth. Your wedding gown is the most beautiful dress I have ever seen. The sheer layer of silk over the skirt shall set the fashion trend for next year. I wish my mother would allow me to wear something as stylish in my wedding.”
Emma responded, “‘Lisbeth,’ what a silly name. I much prefer you as Elizabeth. It is ever so much more elegant. You need a fashionable name to go with your fashionable dress.”
“You are correct. I shall become entirely Elizabeth starting at the wedding,” Lisbeth nodded. “Mary, you must remember only to call me by Elizabeth once I am married. I shall be Elizabeth Cunningham and no longer Lisbeth Wainwright.”
The tea was characterized by the elegant simplicity Lisbeth had come to expect at White Pines. Naturally the conversation centered around wedding and honeymoon plans. Since Lisbeth’s expressed desire for an extended trip to Europe had been vetoed without any conversation, the newlyweds would be taking the train to New York City for the month of June. Lisbeth looked forward to walks through Central Park and visits to museums. Having never traveled to a city more glamorous than Richmond, she told herself that it would be adventure enough.
Edward’s mother asked her future daughter-in-law, “Elizabeth, dear, would you please go see what is taking Edward so long? I told him to return in time for tea. He is in the back garden, doing heaven knows what.”
“Certainly, Mrs. Cunningham.”
“You shall not be allowed to call me Mrs. Cunningham much longer. I expect to be Mother to you after the wedding.”
Lisbeth beamed. “And I look forward to calling you Mother,” Lisbeth replied as she kissed the elder woman’s smooth cheek before she departed to find her betrothed.
Lisbeth refused Emma and Mary’s offer to accompany her in order to have a few minutes alone with Edward. As she walked through the front garden, she felt overwhelmed with joy and utterly at peace. This wonderful home and this wonderful family would soon be hers. She had no doubt that this was the right choice.
Keeping her promise to Edward, she carried Mattie’s necklace in her pocket and touched the shell as she took in the beautiful grounds. It would be foolish to wear the necklace, but carrying it as a reminder of Mattie on her birthday seemed safe enough.
Lisbeth broadcast a silent message, “Mattie, wherever you are, I hope you are safe and happy. I am. I want you to know I am to have a wonderful marriage. You would be happy for me.”
In the back garden Lisbeth noticed a particularly grand willow tree, larger even than her favorite at Fair Oaks. Long branches reached all the way down to kiss the ground. Straying from her path, she parted the fine branches and was surrounded by cool air, the smell of moist soil, and hazy light. Oh, this place was a treasure, a large, private umbrella. Soon she would be able to come here whenever she wished. Perhaps she would have a bench placed by the trunk so she could read in this protective shelter. This would be her haven. Someday she would bring her own daughter under these branches to take naps, learn to read, and share stories.
She heard the rustle of an animal on the other side of the trunk. Undaunted, she moved forward, counting 1…2…3…4…5… as she walked from the branches to the trunk of the tree.
Walking slowly around the trunk, being careful not to approach the animal too quickly, she came upon Edward. She stared at the sight before her although she could not comprehend it. Her eyes took in the length of his body, his pants around his ankles, his knees slightly bent, his naked buttocks, his thighs covered in thick black hair. His entire body pounded up and down with his head arched back and his eyes closed tight, shutting out the world. He was mounted on a field hand, fiercely thrusting himself into her, so intent on the pleasure of his own movements that he did not notice his fiancée.
Lisbeth looked past Edward into the eyes of the girl underneath him. The child stared up, her terrified, caramel brown eyes boring intensely into Lisbeth. Pain and shame filled her young face. She turned her head away as if to hide. Lisbeth’s incomprehension slowly transformed into understanding and then to horror.
Lisbeth shook as a wave of anger and hatred flooded though her. Her stomach lurched, leaving the acrid taste of bile in her mouth. Purely disgusted, Lisbeth screeched, “Get off of her!” Then she ran from the shelter of the willow desperate to get away from the vile scene.
Sobbing and shaking, she was stumbling along the garden path when Edward grabbed her from behind and spun her to face him. She jerked her arm free, and screamed, “Do not touch me. You are despicable. I will never marry you!”
“Elizabeth, calm down,” Edward soothed. “Let me explain.”
Outraged, she stepped back and yelled at him, “Explain!? What explanation can you possible provide? I saw all too clearly the act you were in!”
“I am not the first young man, nor will I be the last, to take pleasure before I am married. This does not affect the way I feel about you or the plans for our marriage. Nothing need change.”
“For you perhaps, but not for me!” Lisbeth shouted. “I cannot imagine life with a man such as you.”
“A man such as me?” he scoffed. “Do not be foolish. All men are like me.”
“All men? How can you say such a thing?” Lisbeth was further enraged at his accusation. “Not my father! Not my brother!”
“Do not be so naïve,” Edward smirked. “You really are such a child.” Edward looked at her with pity and shook his head.
“How did you imagine so many light-skinned house slaves came to be? I assure you they are not the product of two niggers. As I recall, you have your share at Fair Oaks.”
Emily’s face swam before Lisbeth. Lisbeth’s anger was instantly deflated. A numbing horror filled her soul. She stared at Edward, blinking away tears. Edward slowly, gently put his arm through hers. Meeting no resistance, he turned her back toward the house. She let him lead her as thoughts whirled through her head.
Gently, as if speaking to a young child, Edward instructed her, “Elizabeth, we will tell everyone that you became ill. This is not such a falsehood. I understand you are quite shaken by this. You are so innocent, and I treasure that in you. You must go straight home. Rest. You need tell no one what transpired here. Once you are over this shock, you will understand everything is fine. You are so dear to me. It would not do to call off the wedding at this late date. Everything has been arranged.”
Lisbeth unconsciously nodded along to Edward’s soothing voice.
L
isbeth stumbled up to her room and fell into bed. She burrowed into her feather pillow and replayed the events of the afternoon. She imagined what she could have done differently to prevent this horrible experience. She berated herself for being so impulsive. She wished that she had simply called out for Edward rather than stray from the path and take the liberty of parting the branches of the willow. Lisbeth struggled to forget all that she had seen. More than anything she wanted to get the image of the girl’s desperate, caramel eyes pleading for release out of her mind. Eventually a troubled sleep, filled with chaotic dreams, overtook her.
